


You Know Me.

by cherrycola94



Category: DCU, DCU (Comics), Nightwing (Comics), The Flash (Comics), Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: 5 Times, Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Romance, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Pining, Romance, no beta we die like jason
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-15 23:55:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29444442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherrycola94/pseuds/cherrycola94
Summary: Dick Grayson didn’t remember the sunset that evening.How could he?He had never seen his friend look this angelic.Just a timeless love story about two best friends in love with each other.
Relationships: Dick Grayson & Alfred Pennyworth, Dick Grayson & Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson & Wally West, Dick Grayson/Wally West, Linda Park/Wally West
Comments: 16
Kudos: 74





	You Know Me.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tepache](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tepache/gifts).



> for kita from a fic exchange. i hope you like it!

**i.**

[Gotham City

February 14th, 2010]

  
  


Dick Grayson is twelve years old and remembers this day as the first sunny one in a week of endless freezing rain.

Gotham is a cruel place in winter.

She loses all her big-city coolness and goes into full-on predator mode. To the citizens of Gotham, death and depression were old friends that stuck to dark corners in summer and rejoiced in the streets during the wintertime. Flimsy leftover Christmas lights do little to mask the dark mood of cloudy days and the increasing crime rate. Bruce Wayne works overtime organizing charity galas. He attempts to make a dent in the poverty levels, but if you listen closely enough you can still hear the disgusted sounds of a citizen coming across a dead body in the street, calling for the police to retrieve it.

On this day, Dick and Wally sit on a dry curb in a less shady area of the city. They spend their time people-watching and playing a game counting out car honks. When they get all the way up to 213, Dick feels his ancient Blackberry vibrating in his pocket.

Dick fishes the phone out of his pocket. Without even looking at the screen, he knows it’s Bruce. Bruce is the only person who ever calls him and he’s the only person with Dick’s phone number.

Wally playfully steals his phone.

“Hello?” Wally answers with a terrible high-pitched imitation of Dick’s prepubescent voice.

Dick shoves his friend’s shoulder and snatches his phone away.

“Hey Bruce,” Dick chirps.

“It’s time for you to get back over here,” Bruce says. He makes Dick’s curfew end earlier on winter days, which made enough sense because darker days meant more crime. More crime, more Batman and Robin. “Do you want me to send Alfred out for you guys?”

Dick considers it for a minute. He normally likes to take public transportation to the outskirts of the city, watching the clusters of buildings thin out through the tinted windows until he reached the last bus stop. He liked the independence of transportation. Get on, go where you need to be, get off. Nobody batted an eye at you on the bus and nobody questioned a middle schooler’s place on the bus. However, Dick’s socks were soaked and walking all the way from his bus stop to the manor didn’t exactly spell _fun_.

“We’ll wait for Alfred,” Dick announces, making sure Wally catches it too. “At the front entrance of the natural history museum.” They weren’t close to the museum, but walking around the downtown area with Wally would be nice.

“Alright. Alfred’ll give you a call when he gets close,” Bruce sounds a little tired. Captain Cold’s been hitting the downtown area more now for some reason, and he’s been staying up later in an attempt to figure out why. “Have fun, Dick.”

“Bye,” Dick replies a little too quickly.

“The museum?” Wally asks after Dick slips his phone back into his jacket pocket. “Why there?”

“They have the donuts you like nearby,”

“Griddy’s? Really?”

“Would I lie to you?” Dick raises an eyebrow at him. Wally rolls his eyes and pulls him to his feet.

He trails behind Wally, telling him when to turn down the narrow streets and to walk past the greasy food carts (not without Wally whining about his empty stomach) before entering a dog park. In summer, this park is bright green and refreshingly colorful but in winter it tends to stick to shades of brown. Couples hold mittened hands and sit together on benches as they watch their pets. Dick finds himself staring at Wally, trying to read his face.

“Man, I have no idea how you Gothamites make your way around here,” Wally turns around in a little circle. “It looks like the same three buildings over and over again.” 

“You get used to it,” Dick shrugs.

“ _You_ got used to it. You’re the one who has Bruce hounding you about studying maps of this city,” Wally kicks a particularly large chunk of ice.

“I guess so,”

Wally suddenly throws his arm around Dick’s shoulder while on a less crowded part of the park and Dick can _feel_ his heart starting to pump overtime. He tells himself it’s because Wally’s action was sudden, and his reflexes were conditioned over years to react more intensely to everything. Not because, y’know, Wally West is practically the boy of his dreams and currently in _very very_ close proximity.

“One day,” Wally says after they left the park, crossing the street to the front of Griddy’s. “I’m gonna get someone, and we’ll hold hands and watch _our_ puppies run around.”

 _I’ll hold your hand and watch our puppies run around_. Dick wants to say back, but for some reason the words don’t quite make their way out of his mouth.

Instead, he decides to relish in the warmth radiating off of Wally. He was always warm.

***

The boys soon find themselves in the Bat-Limousine, chomping down Boston creme donuts and pizza. Dick keeps hopelessly glancing at his best friend for some _random_ reason, but said friend was way too busy stuffing pepperoni pizza into his face to notice.

For once Dick’s relieved that when Wally’s around food, he ignores everything else around him.

Alfred (newly dubbed the _bat-ler_ by Wally when all the food had vanished) drives up to the large driveway of the manor at around sunset, dropping the boys off on the front steps and then driving the Bat-Limousine down to the garage. Dick’s halfway up the front stairs, making a run for the warmth of the manor and the promise of dry socks when Wally grabs his wrist.

“What?” Dick asks.

“Look at that,” Wally tilts his head to the flatlands in front of the manor, his face turned toward the horizon.

But Dick just continues to stare at Wally.

He’s close enough to see how the light reflected off of Wally’s green eyes, making them look like a beautiful shade of gold-green. And Wally’s _hair_ … It catches the golden light in a way that makes it look like fire. Dick had never seen Wally’s hair look this cool, even while still being all messed up from the strong gusts of wind in the afternoon. Dick wants to take his gloves off right then and there to touch it. To see if it was actually real.

“You almost never see a sunset like _this_ in winter. ‘Specially in a place as drab and gray as Gotham.” Wally continues, grinning at nothing in particular.

Dick catches himself staring at Wally’s lips, stretched into a wide smile. Something inside his chest starts to boil.

“Yeah,” Dick says to Wally, not trusting himself with saying anything else. “It’s really nice.”

If you asked Dick Grayson what the sunset looked like that evening, he wouldn’t be able to tell you.

And how could he?

He had never seen his friend look this ethereal.

**ii.**

[Happy Harbour

February 14th, 2012]

  
  


After New Year’s Eve the team’s had gotten really close. A little _too_ close for Dick’s liking.

No matter where he went, he seemed to catch someone doing something “friends” wouldn’t normally do. M’gann and Conner often stole kisses in the kitchen, Zatanna and Artemis casually flirted with each other in the rec room when they thought nobody could hear and the worst of all; the sounds of Wally hitting on whoever happened to walk in his general direction. Dick could literally hear him from the other side of the mountain, which induced many frustrated hair-pulling and wall-punching fits.

However, on this Valentine’s day everyone else was out on dates: meaning that Dick can be lonely and Wally-free in peace.

Dick sticks his head out of an empty bedroom. He hung around the cave for about an hour while M’gann and Conner got ready for their date in the city, working on school assignments and reading random books to kill time. The coast looks clear for now, so he tiptoes down to the main level. When he gets down, he’s excited to see everything quiet and sans teammates. He hands his backpack onto a coat rack hanging by the zeta tube and crashes onto the couch. The cave never seemed to be big enough with everyone being disgustingly in love. Now being all alone here, it was the biggest place in his universe.

He grabs the remote off of the coffee table and turns the TV on to a lovely episode of… static. Conner loved watching TV static for some reason. Maybe Kryptonians were easily entertained by the noise? It sounded grating in Dick’s personal opinion, but who was he to judge a temperamental alien clone boy? As Dick flips back and forth through the limited channels available to him and after about ten minutes, he finds himself hating romance movies. He must have gone through about a dozen romance movies so far. What was with romance movies and Valentine’s day? Couldn’t there have been at least one channel showing Avatar: The Last Airbender reruns?

Dick’s brain is currently on another level of being bored, dreaming up scenarios for himself and his redhead crush while his eyes burn holes through different versions of the same cishet couple on the big screen and controlling the remote with zombie-like reflexes.

_Recognized._

Dick boos out loud at the computer’s announcement. M’gann and Conner probably forgot something, or they decided to stay back at the cave. He’d have to awkwardly third wheel them-- too polite to ask him to leave and too polite to exclude him from whatever they planned on doing. Dick didn’t want any weird two-on-one action with them. After all, it only took two to tango.

_B03, Kid Flash._

Dick almost falls off of the couch.

Wally? Here? On the one day he was supposed to _not_ be here?

Dick combs his hair with his fingers and tries to look as cool as possible when Wally enters the room.

“Hallmark movies?” Wally looks at the TV as he sits down next to Dick.

He smelled… nothing like the cloud of cologne he normally transforms into at the mention of a date. Weird. Dick expected him to be ready to go out with someone.

“Romance movies as far as the eye can see,” Dick hands him the remote.

“Well, I brought in all of Maguire’s Spider-Man movies,” Dick can see the DVD covers in the redhead’s hands. “I thought we could watch it with the others but… seems like they’re all out.”

“Well, it sounds good to me,” Dick says, bringing his legs up to the edge of the couch and hugging his knees. “You ah… didn’t have a date today?”

“Nah. Apparently the girl I wanted to ask has a girlfriend,” Wally shrugs his maroon windbreaker off and throws it onto the coffee table. It knocks over one of M'gann’s fake plants and sends it rolling onto the floor, but none of them really care. “Plus, if I got that date--” Wally falls backward onto the couch, sinking into the squishy cushions. “--I wouldn’t be able to hang out with _you_ , babe.”

Dick uses every ounce of his willpower to _not_ blush at Wally’s casual usage of the word “babe.” As his mind scrambles to find something else to think about, he stupidly remembers the exact moment Wally told him that he “liked girls but wouldn’t mind dating a guy.” _Bisexual_ was the word Wally was looking for, the same word Bruce gave Dick with a confused smile on his face after he asked, realising that he felt something a little _stronger_ than friendship for his best friend.

Great. If Dick wasn’t the color of a cherry-flavored Slurpee before, then he certainly is now.

As the older boy puts the first Spider-Man movie into the DVD player, Dick can’t help but silently pray that _he_ were one of the boys Wally wouldn’t mind dating.

“Snacks,” Wally declares loudly after pressing the dusty DVD tray back into the machine. He zooms off into the kitchen and comes back equally as fast with a stack of junk food piled a mile high. Dick watches Wally’s hands, setting up a display of snacks onto the table. And damn, Wally’s hands were _nice_ ; long, thin, and strong… Perfect for playing the guitar (which Wally did not do) and just the right size for holding Dick’s cold hands in the winter (which Dick hoped Wally would do at some point in the very near future).

Dick feels something hot creeping up from his stomach to his neck, the feeling he gets every time he pays a little extra attention to Wally. He looks away from Wally’s hands and shifts all his focus to Spider-Man’s opening credits. Out of the corner of his eyes though, he can still see Wally.

Exactly how he wants it to be.

**iii.**

[Wayne Manor

February 14th, 2016]

Dick works away at his chocolate croissant slowly while absorbing a tasteless book he needs to finish for an English assignment. Wally-- here because he once again couldn’t score a date on Valentine’s day-- is lying stomach-down on the couch next to him, watching a random _Fast and Furious_ film he found playing on cable. All the yelling, explosions, and bad rap music is calming background noise to Dick after being a part of the team.

Wally props himself up on his elbow. Dick can see it out of the corner of his eye.

“Can we go out?” It’s a million-dollar question.

“Where?”

“Anywhere,” Wally’s arm waves lazily at the window. The midwinter sunlight reflects off of every object in the room and it’s so blindingly bright that Dick tugs the hood of his sweater over his eyes to shield himself from it.

“I’m gonna need the name of a place, bucko,” Dick turns a page in his book.

Wally makes the small sound, the same sound he made when thinking about a tough homework problem. It’s cute. After a few minutes of him staring off into the distance, Dick can see something click in his mind.

“Skating?”

***

Dick’s gripping the wobbly plastic border of the ice skating rink because apparently he’s forgotten how to skate all together. Loud music and all the tiny hockey kids zooming by him make him feel even more unsteady on his scuffed-up rental skates.

“I thought you’d be… better after you said you used to skate,” Wally teases before Dick shoos him away. After two minutes Wally’s back again. And again. And again. Wally’s lapped him three times so far and Dick’s somehow _still_ stuck on that single patch of white ice, his feet not moving the way he wanted to.

Dick grits his teeth. He’s gone skating quite often up until he turned 12, so why was it so hard now? He assumed it would be like riding a bike but his legs seem to shake _more_ the longer they’re on the ice. And on top of this, Wally’s making figure eights on the glassy surface, and purposefully spray snow onto Dick’s jeans by braking really hard.

“You need help?” Wally says after pulling off a fancy hockey brake, back again after more laps. Dick makes a shooing gesture with his hand, but Wally seems to not be going away this time.

“I can do this,” Dick says, more to himself than to Wally.

“I came here to hang out with you, not watch you mope around in your corner,” Wally crosses his arms. “You wanna take my hand?” Without waiting for an answer, Wally pries Dick’s hands off of the rink’s border and holds them in his. Warmth courses through Dick’s arms at Wally’s touch.

And Dick’s totally cool with this. He doesn’t start sweating. He doesn’t turn red. And since he’s so totally cool about his crush holding his hand, he obviously does _not_ feel his heart begin to flip-flop up in his throat and down to his toes like a caffeinated Broadway actor dancing on stairs. Nah, Dick Grayson’s as cool as the ice he’s skating (tripping) on.

Dick’s skate flies directly upward against his will. He holds his hands out in front of him, bracing himself for the fall, but then Wally expertly loops his arm around Dick’s waist.

“You shouldn’t use your speed in public,” Dick pulls his friend a little closer, whispering as loudly as he could.

Wally shrugs. The music’s loud so he leans in close, lips almost brushing against Dick’s ear. That _almost_ feeling makes Dick shudder a little. “For you, speeding in public’s not really a big deal to me,” He pulls away (to Dick’s displeasure) and starts talking at a normal volume. “It gets easier once you start going,” Wally explains, skating backward so he can hold both of Dick’s hands. “Straighten your back and bend your knees.”

Now that Dick’s actively paying attention to how he’s ~~being dragged across the ice by Wally~~ skating he realises his back is bent over like a question mark. He straightens himself up and feels his back ache a bit. “Bend my knees?”

“Your center of gravity will be lower,” Wally looks over his shoulder. His nose and cheeks were red, reminding Dick of his middle name.

 _Rudolph_. Dick giggles. Wally’s head turns back at Dick and, without knowing why Dick’s smiling so widely, starts grinning too.

Dick’s sort of got the hang of skating when a song starts to play over the giant speakers.

“ _I love this feeling, but I hate this part_ ,” Wally sings, shifting his weight from leg to leg. It makes him sway from side to side.

“Stop it, I’m going to fall,” Dick’s grip tightens on Wally’s hands. Wally just shakes his head dismissively and better adjusts his grip on Dick’s forearms.

“ _Cars are flipping; I'm in hot pursuit_ ,” Wally sings louder which earns him some stares from other skaters. He starts swaying a bit more aggressively. “ _My character's strong, but my head is loose._ ”

Dick rolls his eyes but starts singing right along with Wally. “ _She_ _hits_ _like_ _ecstasy_ ,” Wally winks playfully at Dick, generating a new wave of heat.

They cut through clumps of middle schoolers, they loop carefully around toddlers holding onto orange skate aiders, they glide by some surprisingly fast old people. When Dick’s starting to get the hang of it, a loud voice over the giant outdoor speakers announces it’s time for the zamboni to come out and pave over the old ice. Everyone groans collectively and Wally brings him to the sidelines. They watch the unmarked machine roll onto the ice.

“So…” Dick tugs on Wally’s sleeve after the redhead stops adjusting his beanie. “How long does this take here?”

“The speed depends on the driver,” Wally says, his eyes glued to the zamboni. After watching the guy for a bit, he says; “This person looks like they’ll take a while.”

“You wanna get hot chocolate?” Dick asks as he watches a little boy holding a cup walks by them.

“Dude, you read my mind,”

They swap their skates for shoes and look both ways while crossing the street. A girl with unbelievably fluffy black hair looks at them from behind the counter.

“Couples get two free smalls,” She says with a customer service smile before they say anything.

“We’re--”

“This is only our second date,” Wally interrupts. Dick shoots him a look, but he’s too busy looking at the drink options to notice.

“I’ll have a peppermint hot chocolate,” Dick says slowly.

“I think I’ll go with the classic,” Wally says. “Extra whipped cream.”

The girl reads their orders out to someone behind her. The wait is short and right as Dick and Wally take a sip the girl holds her hand up.

“ _Couples_ take a couple photo,” She points to a photo wall Dick failed to notice. He looks over at Wally, whose face is unreadable.

“Alright,” He shrugs confidently.

The girl raises an eyebrow at them, and they awkwardly pose for a photo, their hands shaping a heart together. As they walk away Dick steals Wally’s cup away from him.

“Dude!” Wally reaches for it, but Dick keeps twisting it out of his reach.

“You lied,” Dick states. “Why,”

“Free hot chocolate,” Wally whines. “You _always_ pay, so I thought if I got something free we’d be even or something.”

Dick hands back the cup.

“Wall, my dad's got money to burn. I think I can manage buying you a four dollar drink,”

“It’s not about the money,” Wally grabs his arm as they cross. And Dick lets him. “It’s about… the gesture.”

“The _gesture_?” Dick laughs. “What does that mean.”

Wally waves his hands. “I don’t know how to explain it. I just feel… _weird_ about it,”

Dick thinks about it, sipping on the peppermint hot chocolate. Him, being rich and Bruce not thinking about the credit cards Dick used whenever he went out. And then Wally, being somewhere on the middle-class spectrum and yelled at over careless spending by his parents.

“Thinking about it, I can understand how you feel,” Dick finds the spot where they stood earlier. 

Wally finishes the rest of his drink with one big gulp. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” He shifts from side to side, finishing off his own drink. “Y’know, that photo was pretty cute.” Dick teases. 

Wally smiles. “I think we’d make a very good power couple.”

“We really would,” 

**iv.**

[2 Hours Northeast From Taggert University

February 14th, 2021]

The night is young and Dick Grayson is (still) head-over-heels in love.

Wally decides to spend the early evening dragging Dick by the arm to his “all-time absolute favorite” mom-and-pop restaurants around the downtown area. So far, Dick has counted about 13 of Wally’s “all-time absolute favorite” stores. He feels full about halfway through a huge bowl of authentic Vietnemese phở at the fifth crowded shop, but Wally looks so excited to finally have someone to drag around, he can’t bring himself to end the culinary tour early. By the end of their dinner(s), Dick is _full. Full_ full. As in, so full that even thinking about chewing the cinnamon-flavored gum Wally offers him when they get into his truck makes him feel sick.

Two hours of driving later, and Dick still feels like an overstuffed Thanksgiving turkey. He decides to _not_ focus on the fact that vomiting was imminent, but instead on the stars they drove so far out to see. An easy distraction, because the sky looked breathtaking. If asked to describe the scene, Dick would probably say something like: _Stars blazed like diamonds cut directly out of the sun in the endless void of black. The moon gave off a silvery glow which gently covered the landscape_.

However, it was not as beautiful as Wally in the sunset, but Dick currently couldn’t really find anything to top that.

He never could.

They park in the middle of a grassy field off the road and get out into the freezing weather, to sit in the trunk. Wally calls it the _authentic star-gazing experience_ . Dick calls it _hello, pneumonia!_

“I wish I could touch a star,” Dick says when they get comfortable, retreating further into his Polartec jacket and scarf. He hates how the wind runs its icy fingers down his face when he least expects it. “Y’know, hold one in my hands like a ball or something.”

“I’d say ‘same’ but...” Wally fidgets with his truck’s keys, an old habit he could never get rid of.

“What do you mean ‘but’’?” Dick’s head turns to the right, facing Wally.

Wally exhales through his mouth, a white puff of cinnamony breath almost invisible in the starlight. “So stars are made up of primarily hydrogen and helium. Gases, so they’re untouchable. And even if you managed to somehow contain the gases with your hands alone, the intensity of heat and light from the churning nuclear forges inside their cores would kill you,”

“I already knew that, smartass,” Dick pokes Wally’s shoulder. He’s wearing only a faded yellow sweatshirt from his senior year of high school and skinny jeans. Dick’s jealousy of his best friend’s speedster physiology grows stronger with every winter.

“I’m only a smartass around you, babe,” Dick’s heart soars at the usage of the word, as usual. And yeah, Wally called anyone that could breathe _babe_ , but him saying the word with nobody else around to hear made Dick’s heart do a slow roll over in his chest.

“That constellation’s called The Dots,” Wally stretches both his arms out above him and points to the entire sky. Dick cringes at the loud _crack_ from both of Wally’s shoulders, an omen of future joint pain. “The ancient Greeks said that people born under The Dots have emotions and think thoughts.”

“Nice, but I’m pretty sure that The _Dots_ aren’t real,” Dick scans the sky for some real constellations.

“Well what constellations do _you_ know?” Wally fakes a condescending tone.

“I know…” Dick squints. “Ursa major.” Dick points out the supposed bear to Wally, guiding his outstretched arm to outline the shape of it. “Leo.” Dick turns to his side so he could better guide Wally’s arm (and so that he could see Wally’s face better). “Annnnd…” Dick double-checks a cluster of stars. “Lynx.”

“How do you know all this stuff?” Wally asks Dick when he lay flat on his back again.

“You can tell your direction by constellations, so Bruce taught some basic ones to me,”

“Oh nice,”

“Yeah, and Jason liked the stories about them so I decided to study them a bit more,”

“Awww,” Now it’s Wally who pokes Dick’s shoulder, though he can barely feel it under all the layers he’s wearing. “You’re a good brother.”

“You’d be a good one too,” Dick closes his eyes.

After about a good hour of lazy conversation, Wally announces that it’s probably time they head back to the city.

“You live a three hour flight away,” Wally states as they settled into the truck. He holds out his hand for the driving glasses he stored in the glove compartment. When Dick first saw Wally drive up to the front of the hotel in his new wire-rimmed driving glasses, he almost fainted.

“Yeah,” Dick rummages around some old road maps and candy wrappers until he finds the leather Superman glasses case. He thrusts it into Wally’s hand and before closing the compartment something shiny catches his eye-- a clear CD case labelled “Night Songs” in Sharpie. He pops the disk into the CD player.

“Well, if you live so far… why’d you come out here today?” Wally asks quietly when they pull onto a paved road. The question was almost lost between the soft rock music and the car’s noisy engine. “I mean, didn’t you have other things to do?” He hesitates a little, jaw clenching attractively. “You didn’t come out of _pity_ because Linda dumped me, did you?”

Wally was the Flash. The fastest man on the planet, and probably one of the fastest things in the entire _universe_ . He had villains to fight at night, public appearances, speeches, Physics work, and university lectures to take care of. His girlfriend of a year, Linda, wanted more attention than Wally could give, so she decided to dump him a week before Christmas. They broke apart on relatively good terms but Dick knew it still bothered Wally a bit. So yeah, Dick _does_ feel bad for his friend, but flying all the way from Gotham State just to get a mere glimpse of Wally West was something he’d do in a heartbeat. No questions asked.

Back in the present, Dick rests his hand awkwardly on the gearshift. He can fly planes, operate trains, and use various types of boats, but in all of his 23 years of living he had never quite gotten how to drive a stick. “Wall, I came only because you asked me to.”

Wally nods sharply and says nothing back, but the answer seems to have satisfied him.

At a railway cross, Wally places his hand over Dick’s to pull the car to stop. Dick expects him to take it off after he puts the car into drive, but he just keeps it there, brushing his thumb over Dick’s knuckles. Each gentle touch was the same feeling Dick imagined he’d get if he were able to hold a star in his hands.

Soon, the windows start fogging up and Dick’s asking Wally “Is this how you always feel?”while sliding off his jacket and folding it into a puffy square. He could feel the beads of sweat running down his neck.

“In winter?” Wally clicks his tongue. “Almost always.”

“What do you do in summer?” Dick shoves his jacket into the seat behind him.

“Surprisingly, I don’t get overheated in summer,” Wally rolls the windows down a crack and turns up the music. “I feel just about as hot as anyone else.”

Without really thinking, Dick reaches for Wally’s hand again. And Wally lets him hold it. They sit in silence, music serenading them and dark shapes passing by their windows.

“You seem tired,” Wally says, not taking his eyes off the road. Dick mumbles something sounding like a “no” in response. Wally squeezes his hand. “Sleep. I’ll wake you when we get there.”

“S’okay,” Dick says. “I can wait until we reach.”

He didn’t. He was knocked out in about ten minutes.

When Dick wakes, he’s somewhere vaguely familiar. Maybe about 10 minutes or so from Wally’s dorm? The truck’s windows are closed and a song Dick once recommended to Wally was playing. Wally hums along softly, drawing circles on the back of Dick’s palm with his thumb.

Dick looks at the shadows shift and fade away on his friend’s face. He stares at Wally, not caring if he’s caught, until they pull into Taggert University’s dorm parking lot.

“Well, this is it,” Wally parks the car.

“This is it,” Dick echoes. Then, he has this crazy rush of confidence. “Actually--”

Dick unbuckles his seatbelt and tturns to Wally, trying to formulate the right sentence.

_“When Linda broke up with you… I thought it would be my chance?” No, that sounds creepy. “I’ve liked you since forever?” No, that's cringey._

Dick found it depressing that he’d heard dozens of confessions from brave girls, but he couldn’t make up his own.

“What’s up?” Wally lets out an awkward chuckle, clearly sensing Dick’s internal crisis.

“Ah, nothing… I figured it out, actually,” Dick gives him a nonchalant shrug.

“You looked pretty intense,” Wally’s brows knit together in a confused smile. One that says _uhhh yeah. Sure. I_ totally _believe you, buddy._ “You sure that’s all?” He unlocks the doors.

“Yeah,” Dick nodded as they stepped out. “I’m just… kinda tired.”

“Well,” Wally comes around to Dick’s side and dusts off his jeans. “That’s your car.” He points his own keys to a blue Porsche parked a few spaces over. “I’ll guess I'll see you later?”

Then Dick was possessed by some mystic force. It’s the only way he can explain doing this.

He pivots on one foot like a ballet dancer and suddenly pulls Wally into a huge hug. Wally stiffens for a second, but then pulls Dick’s head closer to his chest. They stay like this, Dick burying his face into the crook of Wally’s neck and inhaling the smell of Old Spice and something vaguely… Wallyish.

Dick pulls away first.

Their noses are so close together, Dick could easily boost himself up onto his toes and kiss Wally’s lips. He almost does it, but something inside him holds him back.

“Uh, bye,” Wally breathes out, breath still smelling like cinnamon gum. Their eyes are locked together and Dick can’t describe the feeling he gets.

It’s just… lovely. The features of the face he’s memorized this close to him. It’s nothing like his imagination.

“Bye,” Dick says. “I’ll… come over again-- if you want. You just… you just give me a call.”

The corner of Wally’s mouth tugs upwards slightly. “I know.”

No matter how much his heart screamed at him in longing, Dick didn’t kiss Wally that night in the parking lot.

It was too soon.

**v.**

[Keystone City

February 14th, 2022]

  
  


The first time Dick Grayson kisses Wally West is on a bright February afternoon. It reminds the former Robin of the day when he first _didn’t_ kiss Wally ten years ago.

It wasn’t really snowing on this day, making his flight here fairly quick. As Dick steps off the plane, a sense of finality settles into his body and he hails an airport cab. He could _technically_ summon a fleet of fancy black limousines and security guards to make a big show of his arrival in Keystone as the eldest Wayne son, but he decides against it. Today just isn’t a day for theatrics. It’s for unfinished business.

When he arrives a block away from his final destination, he finds himself just… standing there on the grassy field, staring off into the distance. The sun’s lazing about the heavens, on the verge of dipping under the horizon and turning the sky into a masterpiece of oranges and reds. Dick closes his eyes and thinks about the soon-to-come sunset. The colors remind him of Wally’s hair.

It’s quiet. Peaceful, even.

Wind hits Dick face, making him even colder. He shudders and crouches further into his jacket. The blue flowers in his gloved hand threaten to fly somewhere far, far away.

Dick starts walking. If he stands around any longer, he’d get frostbite. When he finally reaches where he’s supposed to be his nose is running and his eyes are red from the biting cold. He stands before his best friend, feet solidly planted shoulder-width apart to ensure that he won’t break apart while speaking.

“I wanted one thing throughout my entire life. I wanted it so bad, sometimes I forgot there were other people around me,” He says directly to Wally, hoping the redhead can hear him over all the wind.

“And what I wanted… what I’ve been dreaming about all this time was kissing you. Ever since we watched the sun set at my house,” Dick continues, setting down the bouquet of blue cornflowers (Wally’s favorite) down in front of the grave. The ground is so dry and lifeless for a second Dick forgets how to breathe because it’s too damn _hard_ to imagine Wally West, his personal sunshine, six feet under it.

Dick sighs and sits down beside the gravestone, thankful nobody else in this city is insane enough to be at a graveyard on Valentine’s day. “You might not remember it, but I think about that day all the time.”

Dick studies the stone. It’s white and shiny, which contrasts every other stone around. 

  
  


_Here lies Wallace Rudolph West_

_November 11, 1995 - December 22, 2021_

_Beloved nephew and friend_

  
  


He leans his head against it, like he did all those times he sat next to Wally and put his head on his shoulder.

“You said you wanted one of those cheesy Valentine’s day confessions. I should’ve taken a chance,” Dick says softly. The stone is freezing against his cheek, but he doesn’t care. “If I could, I’d want to start all over again. Tell you more.”

Dick sits there for a while, trying to ignore all the what ifs bubbling up from the depths of his memory. He decides to focus on humming one of Wally’s favorite songs under his breath to keep his mind from thinking about the alternate universes where he’d confess sooner, or fall in love even harder, or not falling in love with his best friend at all.

After a stretch of time where Dick’s positive he’ll get frostbite, he gently presses his lips against the tombstone. A first and final kiss.

He stands up, adjusts the flowers, and walks away.

***

[Blüdhaven

February 14th 2031]

  
  


On this Valentine’s day Dick Grayson will sit by himself in his apartment with a bottle of self-pity chardonnay in his hand, slouching on his couch (Barbara Gordon a few months before today will try to talk him _out_ of buying it. She will fail). He will flip through on-demand channels and take a sip of his lukewarm wine every time he sees a happy cishet couple on screen.

At the back of his mind, after all this time, there will still be the same face tugging on his heartstrings. The boy with his infectious smile and sparkling green eyes will continue to plague Dick in his sleep and in quiet hours. The what ifs will whisper at him from behind whatever lover he’s with, telling him that they’ll never be his soulmate.

Dick Grayson will be 32 years old, all alone on Valentine’s day and Wally West’s face will still be the definition of perfection.

It always will be.

  
  


_[fin]_

**Author's Note:**

> for the people who’d like to listen to wally’s/my late-night driving playlist, here’s the link :)) https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0MINDYEpAwvh9INuLUR1Gv?si=NGB0KWCUT8ObFSzEIkz6-A


End file.
